


Destiel Ficlet Compilation

by haylynn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlets, M/M, One-Shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3712249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haylynn/pseuds/haylynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work will be an assortment of destiel ficlets. Each chapter is a completely different prompt, with no relation to previous and/or future chapters. If you ever have prompts you would like me to add, feel free to comment!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I tend to write a lot of destiel ficlets that are too short to be their own lone-standing fanfics. So I decided to just mend them together into one large group. Each chapter will have it's own set of warnings and what not. If you have any requests/critiques/etc, you can comment!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of the Mark of Cain and Castiel's fading grace, kissing

_Anonymous_ _asked:Things you said at the kitchen table_

* * *

 

“How are you?”

It was a simple question, and yet my hands still shook and my throat felt like I swallowed a desert. I drummed my fingers on the wooden table and kept my eyes low, thoughts racing. _How are_ you _, Cas? You put on a good face but I know you’re fading._

“I’m…Better.” I say simply, and we both know it’s not the full truth. Then again, we were never very good at being truly honest. Maybe that was always our downfall, the lies and deceit. But you’ve always seen right through me like a window, and I’ve given up on pulling the curtains shut.

But you smile and nod. And I catch your eyes just as they’re pulling away from mine and landing on the angry red scar on my forearm. You don’t try to hide your staring. Just look away, unconvinced. Our conversations were always full of empty words that had no meaning and stares that said everything our mouths were too afraid to utter.

Sam is there in an instant, closing the awkward silence. He’s all bed-head and yawns that reek of too many cups of coffee. He sits down beside me with his laptop, already blabbering on about a case a few hours out from here. You sit and wait patiently, listening intently to every word he says. And I’m too focused on messiness of your hair and rawness of your lips after you’ve been biting them for a minute straight.

“Dean?” Sam asks, and I’m brought back to reality again. I shake my head, feigning exhaustion making me space out. But I catch your eyes again, and I know you aren’t buying it.

“Right, so a bunch of dried up bodies in Springfield. Vamp nest?” I ask, taking another sip of coffee.

“Sounds about right. What do you think, Cas?” Sam asks, and you nod. Sam closes his laptop and tells me to be ready to move out in an hour. I’m still focused on the tightness of your shoulders, and how they look like they’ve been carrying the weight of the world for far too long.

An hour later I’m in the kitchen, packing up a cooler for the road. An eight hour drive would be insufferable without the help of snacks and beer. When I turn around, you’re seated at the table again, just like this morning.

“Cas?” I ask, and you look up at me with those big blue eyes I can’t help but always drown in.

“You’ll be safe, right?” You ask, and I nearly drop the six-pack in my hands at the worried tone in your voice. Hunt after hunt that Sam and I have been on, and you’ve never asked me that.

“Of course, when am I not?” I ask with a chuckle, and a smirk that doesn’t reach my eyes. You smile, and I know that my humor wasn’t comforting.

“Just…I’m always there if you need it. Just pray and I’ll come.” You say, eyes tracing the pattern in the wood of the table. You won’t look at me now, as if you’re ashamed to be sitting in front of me.

“It’s just a nest of vamps, Cas. Nothing we can’t handle. We’ve done it a thousand times.” I say, sitting down at the chair across from you. Your knees brush against mine and I almost hesitate to pull away from the contact. You’re unfazed by it, but you look at me again. I nearly forget how to breathe for a second.

“I know.” You say, and you’re looking away again. I want to reach across the table and hold your head in place so that you’d never take your eyes off me again. “But lately, with the mark… I don’t want you to lose control again and me not be there.”

I’m speechless, sitting at the bunker kitchen table with a deadly mark on my arm and an even deadlier creature sitting in front of me. But your words are soft and your eyes hold an intensity I haven’t seen in years.

“I’ve got Sam. And I’m better now-“

“You’re right, I’m just worrying too much.” You interrupt me and stand up from the table, and I’ve never been so terrified for you to fly away.

“Cas-“

“Dean, it’s okay. You’re right, you have it under control. It’s just a vampire nest. You and Sam will get it cleaned up in a few days and then you’ll be back here and I’ll come to heal you if you need it and-“

But your words are cut off, and you’re just staring at me breathing all heavy, like I hold all the answers you’ve been looking for. And suddenly you’re pulling me up by my elbows and holding me by my jacket lapels, and my palms are digging into the wooden kitchen table as you back me up into it. I can feel the heat of you against me and the blue of your eyes has nearly disappeared by how blown out your pupils are. And your lips are on mine and I don’t feel the familiar burning mark on my forearm for the first time in months.

Your lips are gone sooner than I would have hoped, and we’re both breathing too heavy to form sentences. But we’ve never been good at saying the right things, and actions do speak louder than words. So I sit still, not moving away from where you stand with me against the kitchen table, in between my legs and holding onto me like I’m the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I just want you to be safe. From the monsters you hunt and the ones inside you.” You say, voice ragged and rough.

We’re in the kitchen at the bunker. And you’re either rambling on or barely speaking as we’re up against the kitchen table. But either way, it’s enough.

I kiss you again, just to fill in the gap between us because words never worked between us and I have no idea what to say.

Not long after that, Sam is in the car honking the horn for me to hurry up. And I’m kissing you one last time as you sit at the kitchen table, telling me _Goodbye. Pray to me while you’re gone. Let me know that you’re safe or if you need anything._

And a few days later when Sam and I get back, cut up and bruised, and sore in all kinds of places, you’re there. Sitting in the kitchen with fading, but healing hands.

And an _I love you,_ that I’ve waited far too long to hear.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Vivid nightmares, one-sided venting, thoughts of suicide

_[jimmynovok](http://jimmynovok.tumblr.com/) (tumblr) asked: things you said when you thought i was asleep_

* * *

 

It’s all flashes of black and white, with a crimson hue of red all over. There is blood on the walls, on the floors, on me. There’s a mirror on the wall in this dark place, and I can see myself standing there with razor sharp teeth and blackened eyes. And there’s a rack where countless bodies lay, moaning and crying in pain. And I’m laughing, cackling as I thrash about with a blade in my hand. Hell is a godless place, and apparently so are nightmares.

And then the air is lighter, and the stench of blood has washed away. All I can hear is the sound of a fan whirling above me. My throat is hoarse from screaming, and my chest is heaving. I feel two fingers lift away from my forehead, and I stay completely still.

The intruder sits on the edge of my bed, and I’m waiting for the right moment to attack as I sink back down into the mattress on my side, with my eyes clamped shut and my entire body rigid.

“I wonder if you know how many times I’ve had to pull you out of your nightmares.” The voice says, and my entire body relaxes. _Castiel._ The voice is you, and I decide to not move at all.

The post-nightmare haze is fading, and I can hear you breathing from where you sit. My shins are only inches away from you, and I can feel your heat like a small radiator against my skin.

“Of course, I haven’t in a while. You seem to get them less now. When I first pulled you out of hell, you got them almost every night. Now, it seems like only once or twice a week. If you were awake, I’d apologize for not always being there to stop them anymore.” You’re still as a statue, voice quiet and low.

_He thinks I’m still asleep._

I even out my breathing, interested as to why you’re sitting on my motel bed talking to me while I sleep. It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you, and a part of me wants to sit up and ask where the hell you’ve been. But I stay still, listening.

“To be honest, I don’t know why I’m here right now.” You say, and there’s sadness in your voice. There’s something there, something deep and pained.

“I suppose… I didn’t know where else to go.” I listen, and I notice the smell of blood. Not sure if it is still remnants of my nightmare, I crack open my eyes.  “Talking to you… Even if you aren’t conscious, it is comforting in a sense.”

The moonlight does little to help, but I can make out your hunched figure sitting beside me. Your coat is torn horribly, and you’re covered in blood. You’re clutching your hands together, trying to suppress the way they shake. There’s an urge for me to sit up and hold them, to help with the trembling.

“I killed another angel today.” You finally say after a moment of silence. There is a long gap of quietness and I can hear your breath quickening. I hold mine. “I’ve lost count of how many of my siblings I’ve slaughtered.”

“I look at you and your brother and I’ve always wondered how you could go to such extremes for one another. Selling your souls, dying again and again. Maybe it’s just that I have never formed such bonds with my siblings. Maybe I truly am heartless.” Your voice is rough, and I swear it sounds like you’re going to cry.

“I- I don’t think I am heartless. I know that I can feel… Human emotions. That must mean I have a soul, right?” It’s a question I simply can’t answer, since I’m only pretending to be asleep. But if I could answer, I’d tell you that by my standards, you’re have the biggest soul of all.

You let out a shaky breath. “I suppose I owe you my gratitude, for showing me the ways of humanity. I used to be so… Stoic. And now everything is different.”

“A part of me does want to thank you. There’s so much beauty here. Human emotions that I’ve come to enjoy. Happiness, joy, hope, awe…Love.”

Air catches in my throat, and even though my eyes are closed I can feel yours on me. There is silence, and then another trembling breath.

“But, there are other emotions I almost hate you for showing me. Loss, envy, and anger. They’re all so painful. They almost make all the good emotions not worth it.”

You’re crying, and I’ve never felt simultaneously so awkward and awestruck. In all the year’s I’ve known you, I have never seen you shed a tear. And now, it’s some ungodly hour in the night and there’s a fallen angel crying on the edge of my bed.

“I was never meant to feel. Angels are supposed to be almost robotic. And I’ve been thrown into this cesspool of emotions, and it _hurts._ I’m so lost and hopeless and angry. Existing this way was something I was never prepared for. Sometimes, I wish I had the strength to make it all stop.”

“I used to think humans were so weak and fragile. I used to watch you and your brother go to such extremities for each other and sit in disbelief at your devotion. But I understand now. You grew up together. And in a sense, I’ve grown up with you. And I know now that I would go to the ends of the Universe for you Winchesters.”

Your words hit me hard and I’m glad we aren’t having a conversation, because I probably wouldn’t be able to form sentences. You’re sniffing and gasping quietly, and I know that there must be tears streaking down your face.

“I just don’t know if anyone, including myself, would go to the ends of the universe for me.” You say, and I can almost hear my heart shatter.

“I’ve given everything for you, Dean Winchester. You and you’re brother are all that I have left. My angelic family doesn’t understand, and I don’t expect that they will. I was a terrible angel, and I was an even worse human. And now I’m somewhere stuck in the middle and I’ve never felt more confused. Perhaps it would be best if I just… Stopped existing.”

I have to force myself not to sit up and hold you down, to scream at you for even considering leaving. I can feel anger, betrayal, pain, bubbling inside me at your words. But then I remember what you must be feeling, the same feelings I feel nearly every day. And all I want to do is hold you now.

“When humans die they either go to heaven or hell. When monsters die they go to purgatory. But where will _I_ go when I die? Is there a heaven for me too?”

You’re asking all these questions and rambling on about all of your fears and wants and desires and confessions, and you think you’re talking to an empty space where no one is listening. But I can hear you, and I know that you’re in pain and it hurts me too.

I’ve spent this entire time lying motionless in my bed, telling myself I’d let you get it all out and that you’d leave before I got the chance to pretend to wake up. But pretending just isn’t working anymore, and I can’t help but sit up and wipe the tears that fall off of my cheeks.

“Dean?” You ask, moving like you’ve just been burnt. You’re embarrassed, still covered in gashes and blood that isn’t all yours. But I’m quicker, and I’m grabbing you before you can leave and pulling you back down.

I don’t care that you’re dirty, broken, and battered. I don’t mind that I’ve never seen you cry and yet you’ve been weeping for the past twenty minutes in the darkness of my bedroom. It doesn’t bother me that everything you said to me, you said only because you thought I was sleeping and wouldn’t hear. All I care about is you.

“There is a heaven for you.” I say, and my hands are pushing off your bloodied coat onto the floor and loosening your tie. I’m pulling off your shoes and my hands are shaking from the adrenaline that pushed me to ‘wake up’ in the first place. And I’m pulling you against me, and you’re still stone-like and breathing heavy. But my arms wrap around you and I’m breathing in the scent of blood and clean-cotton. “And it’s here. On Earth, with me and Sam. We would go to the ends of the universe for you, you dumbass. Because that’s what family does.”

And there’s a laugh coming out of my mouth, and tears in my eyes. And I feel you, stiff and frozen, begin to loosen. And your trembling hands grab onto the thin fabric of my t-shirt, and your face digs into the space between my neck and collar bone.

I pray to whatever god listening that you’ll stay there for a while.

 

 


End file.
